Perfect Sinners

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Perfect Sinners Page 7

by Rick Murcer


  She stopped as a new rush of emotion overwhelmed her. He waited for a moment, then pushed her.

  “Keep going, Brenda,” he urged. “It will help.”

  “Okay. Just a minute.”

  Big Harv looked at the phone in his hand, frowning, and his heart breaking at the same time. Her voice had altered again. It now sounded hollow, detached, and hopeless. This sort of hell would always be the worst thing that could happen to a parent.

  Then she was back, sounding a little better.

  “So Dave and I sat her down and tried to talk to her. She denied everything saying she was going to church with some guy and they were working on getting material things out of their lives, including wrong foods that destroyed the body and money that wrecked the soul. Crap like that. We didn’t believe her. She said she didn’t care what we believed. She said this church and the pastor were more family to her than we’d ever been, all of the time twirling that cross between her fingers.”

  Big Harv made a note about the cross. “What Church? Did she say?”

  “No. Ramona wouldn’t tell us because she thought we’d muck it up for her by confronting the pastor.”

  “Was she right?”

  He almost saw her shaking her head. “No. I don’t think we would have. Dave told her he only wanted to meet the man and see the church. He said he also wanted to meet this kid she was hanging with. That’s when she stood up from the couch and began screaming at him. Saying he didn’t care about her and he was only worried about what his cop buddies thought of him and how he was a shitty dad.”

  Brenda caught her breath, let loose a heart-wrenching sob, all the while making little noises under her breath. He gave her credit for being a tough woman, even though she was on the verge of losing it completely.

  “We can do this later, Brenda. You’ve had a hell of a day.”

  Softly, almost inaudibly, she answered. “Harv? Do you know what it’s like to have the last conversation you had with your dead child be one filled with anger and hate? God in heaven, it’s-it’s unbearable. But I have to finish this for you and for us, for her, okay?”

  Tough didn’t cover it. He was sure he wouldn’t have this kind of strength in her situation.

  “Alright. I’m listening, Brenda.”

  “Dave then grabbed her, trying to calm her down. She kicked him, and then slapped him. He reacted and pushed her down on the sofa. Then he bent to pick her up, apologizing over and over, telling her he loved her. She pushed him away, reached into her pocket, and brought out a knife. She said she’d kill him if he ever touched her again. She then ran out the door, leaving us stunned and shocked.”

  “A minute later, Dave tried to follow her to bring her back, but it was dark and she had already disappeared. The following morning, when, after she’d been out all night, Dave called to see if you could help. The next time we knew anything was when the detectives stopped by to tell us. . . then you called.”

  Harv had thought her voice broke again. It hadn’t.

  “Why are you talking to my wife, Patterson?”

  “Dave?”

  “Hell yes it’s me.”

  “Calm down. We—”

  “Don’t tell me what to do, you piece of shit. You failed me. And they got her. They got her.”

  CHAPTER-14

  Ellen held the phone away from her ear as Kate, as usual, spoke far too loudly when using her cell. It seemed to be an epidemic for old and young alike.

  “Yeah, I’ll go give ol’ Mulder his cat food. He sort of likes his Mama Kate anyway.”

  “Thanks, Kate. I owe you.”

  “Yep, ya do. Ya can take George and me out to lunch sometime.”

  “Deal.”

  “I’m going to take a gander at those new pictures you’re paintin’ too.”

  “Okay, just don’t grab a brush and fix anything,” she said smiling.

  “Oh heavens, girl. That’d be like giving one of those gun-hating liberals a piece and tell them to hit a bullseye at fifty yards.”

  That was her Kate.

  “Ellie?”

  “Yes, Kate.”

  She swore she could feel Kate’s emotion, her encouragement oozing right through the phone.

  “Just do that thing ya do. I got Mulder’s belly taken care of.”

  “I will, Kate. Thanks again.”

  Ellen hung up just as Brice tore off I-94 onto West Irving Park Road, lights flashing and siren blaring.

  “I’m glad that’s taken care of. Mulder gets pissy without his early dinner,” said Ellen.

  “He’s not the only one,” answered Brice.

  She reached over and kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll get something after we process this scene, I promise.”

  “Yeah? Okay. If we feel like it that is.”

  There was a small woofing sound from the back and Ellen turned to look at Beaux. He lay on the seat, ears up, a smile on his tan and white face.

  “You doing okay, Big Boy?”

  There was another under the breath bark and she had to smile.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. And I’m looking forward to what you’ll bring to the table.”

  He cocked his head to the right, as if he understood every word. Anna said he was bright, very bright.

  She turned back to the front of the unit, staring out of the windshield as Brice flashed past another vehicle.

  In all of her years, she’d never investigated a crime scene in a location like the one they were headed for now.

  She sighed. What the hell is wrong with people? It’s bad enough to kill two people, but then leave them there?

  “If what you say is true, Brice, this is over the top. I thought the park setup was bad a few months ago but a damned cemetery? One that gives tours no less.”

  “Bizarre to say the least. So why there? What’s the reason for that?”

  “Hey, you’re the detective. I should be asking you.”

  “Yeah, but I like the sound of your voice better than mine.”

  She grinned despite where they were headed and why. “I can say the same thing. So you first.”

  Slowing down at the North Lincoln Avenue intersection, he snuck through it then kicked it in again as they waded around the Chicago traffic, barely escaping a T-bone situation involving a yellow Hummer.

  Ellen exhaled. These mad dashes to crime scenes were nerve-racking, especially when she wasn’t driving, but on the other hand, there was the total exhilaration of the speed of the chase, as it were, and the processing of the scene when they arrived.

  “Well, it’s obvious that the killer wants us to pay attention. To put it in our heads that what he or she is doing should be noticed, that it’s important.”

  “I see that. The killer has an agenda, I’d guess. But I also think we can’t be too quick to jump to any conclusions on what that might be. Maybe it’s just some suicide pact or something else off the strange-but-true charts.”

  “I know, you could be right and, like you say, let the science tell its story. But I’ve never seen a suicide pact that included such violence toward one another, have you?”

  She shook her head, wondering what it took inside of a person to do that to another human being, alone one’s self.

  “No, I haven’t. But I’m sure I’ve not seen all there is to see in this screwed up world we work in either. I mean look at Beaux here. Who would bet he could do what Anna says?”

  “Not me, not to that extent. I mean there are K9 drug sniffers and the like, but the whole package? We’ll find out. There are a few hundred other questions to ask here, but we need to focus on one big one,” said Brice.

  “You mean are these related to the two murders from the river?”

  “I do mean that. I’ve been around long enough to know that these two cases could be totally separate. When you get a city this size, this kind of crap flushes down the same sewer, yet it sometimes comes from different toilets. Having said that, more often than not, these kinds of killings come from a single
source.”

  “Well, I’ve not heard it put that way, but I get it. We’ll need to put the time in to tell, but. . .”

  Ellen grew silent as they approached the entrance of Graceland.

  Brice cranked the wheel left and entered between the black, wrought iron gates. It took only a second to see where they needed to be as she spotted the semi-circus of law enforcement vehicles, lights flashing, and the obligatory commotion taking place a few hundred feet up near the pillared Palmer monument.

  She never liked to see that mass of law enforcement near any crime scene. Forensic evidence could be fragile, to say the least. More people meant more opportunity to screw up something important. Maybe the first on site kept the scene protected by procedure. She could only hope.

  Finding a parking spot, Brice guided the cruiser in and put the car in park without turning it off. She felt his searching eyes.

  “What?”

  “You looked like you were going to get, pi-ahh, upset.”

  “I’ll be fine. Maybe they didn’t trample all over vital evidence and I don’t have to kick someone’s ass.”

  “I hope you’re right. Listen. I want you to shift gears for a minute. You started to say something just before we got here. What was it?”

  After burying the last of her emotions regarding the crime scene, she turned away from Brice, looking back at Beaux, who was staring at her as if expecting the answer to Brice’s question as well.

  What was she going to say? Come on Ellie, just let it rip.

  She turned back to Brice and stared him square in the eyes. “Listen, the public display of bodies isn’t an everyday thing, right? I think we’ve learned that over time. The last case like this taught me that tidbit.”

  “True. But, psychopaths can and will do things differently. What’s your point?”

  Ellen looked down at her hands. This guessing gig using her intuition and instincts was still so new, but, hey, this was Brice. He asked for it. And, she wanted to share her thoughts, if no more than to get them off her mind.

  She looked back to him. “That’s my point. What if it’s not another psychopath on the loose? What if these four murders have a different purpose?”

  CHAPTER-15

  The man standing at the warped metal table in the old warehouse didn’t look dangerous. He was slim but tall, had his hair cut short and neat, and dressed well in a funky sort of way. Not exactly harmless, but certainly not dangerous. Until she met his stare.

  The quote about the eyes being the window to the soul registered with her.

  They were large, dark irises that contrasted against the whites of his eyes, almost matching his ebony skin. But there was something deeper. This was a dark soul. Yet, she knew that, didn’t she? Who could do what he did without an internal reckoning that ended with a decision to do whatever it took to get what he wanted.

  She understood.

  The second man, standing a few feet to the other’s right couldn’t have been more different. He was shorter, white, and his hair was longer without any real style. His dress was the opposite of his counterpart and far from neat, especially the dirty gray hoodie. She wondered how long it had been since he had been to a barber shop or had taken a shower.

  No matter. She’d dealt with him most of her life, apart from his unusual appetite and somewhat convoluted ideals, he was like most street people. But who was she to judge? What you see with him had always been this way.

  “Well, well, well. Looks like we got da band back together.”

  The tall man stepped toward her, his hand out. “At least most of it.”

  The smaller man stepped up beside him, his head bowed. “Raymond, we weren’t in a band, brother. We were in a―”

  “I know where we were, Hank. It’s an expression, dumbass,” he answered not hiding the irritation in his voice.

  “Don’t talk to me like that. You don’t get to do that.”

  The tone in Hank’s voice still gave her chills. Not like before, when she’d seen what he was capable of, but creepy was still creepy.

  Raymond stopped, putting his hands on his hips and facing the other. “You know how I am, man, just don’t take it too personal, okay?”

  “Okay. You know how I am too,” he answered, still not raising his head.

  She walked over to them. “It’s good to see you both, even under these circumstances.”

  “You, too, Amanda,” answered Raymond.

  “What he said is true, sister. It’s always nice to see you. To touch you,” said Hank.

  Controlling the shiver was difficult. She’d be glad when this last journey with them was over. But especially with him.

  “Thank you, Hank. I’m sorry for the short greeting, but we have to get right to this. The window is closing a little faster than I was hoping for, but we’re still in good shape. A couple of these cops are a little better than some we’ve dealt with.”

  She turned toward the tall man. “Raymond, are your people ready for tonight? Is everything in place?”

  He snorted. “I’m always ready. You know that. Been ready for a week. My people know where to be and when.”

  “Good. This isn’t a drug deal on the South side. This is what gets us where we want to go and makes the table level for all of us,” she answered.

  Raymond nodded. “Just don’t forget us little people, the ones that stir the drink and set you up in those high places when this here deal is done. I wouldn’t like that.”

  “Forget? Forget?”

  She turned away, then was on him, knife in hand, the cold point pressed under his chin. “Don’t ever talk about me like that again. I made you king in the South. I gave you money, men, drugs, and took out your rivals. Everything you have came from me.”

  The fear in his eyes was unusual for him. But fear could be a good thing.

  She lowered the blade, and spoke softly. “We’ve been through heaven and hell together. We’re family. We learned from him together. All of us. We learned what to be and what not to be. Don’t doubt me or what’s coming. Especially don’t question my intentions toward you both. Ever. You two helped to rescue me when I thought there was only a six-foot hole in an unmarked grave left for me. I remember what you did.”

  “I told you your mouth would be the death of you and I was almost right. The Bible says the mouth is a two-edged sword. You just about found that out,” said Hank quietly.

  Raymond sighed in relief. “You may be right on that one, brother. And I’m sorry I upset you, Amanda. I ain’t exactly a trusting soul.”

  She put the knife back in her jacket. “No hard feelings. I only want to make sure you’re ready.”

  “I do appreciate a woman with a temper, though,” said Raymond, his large grin making a show.

  “You got the right girl, then,” she answered, flashing him a quick smile.

  Turning toward Hank, she mustered more strength and touched his arm. “Hank. Are you ready for the last chapter in this trifecta?”

  He nodded. “There are many sinners to choose from. I’ll get the right couple and take care of it as you desire.”

  She didn’t think it possible for a person to keep his eyes to the floor as long as he had.

  “Good. The timing must be right. Then you’ll get your reward.”

  “Doing what I’m gifted to do is plenty of reward. But I appreciate the other. It helps me further my. . . work.”

  He grew silent, then raised his eyes to her. “I’ll finally be able to take what has always been mine. No matter what he said.”

  “Won’t we all,” she answered.

  “I’m looking forward to dat. Big Time,” said Raymond.

  “Okay. We’re done here. Do your jobs and no one will be able to stop us. Now go. We’ve been here too long already.”

  The two men gave her a nod, then left the room through different doors. She waited until she was sure they were gone, then pulled her cell from her pocket and pushed the speed dial number.

  “Yes?”


  “They’re gone. Make sure we have the tails in place and that we finish this the way I told you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He hung up. She smiled, touching the gold coin in her pocket.

  CHAPTER-16

  Big Harv turned right off from Damen Avenue onto West Henderson, drove a few hundred feet, then squeezed into the small parking space in front of the narrow, two-story Victorian cuddled in between two others.

  ACKLES.

  The engraved, wooden sign stood out against the pale brick just above the covered stoop. Not that he needed the sign. He’d been here plenty of times, even before he’d taken the family’s case.

  Putting the car into park, he exited and then stood in front of the home, hands on hips, nostalgia overtaking him.

  Dave had been a friend for more than fifteen years. They’d worked a few cases together as temporary partners that might still curl his hair, if he had enough to curl.

  During those investigations, he’d enjoyed plenty of meals in this family’s dining room. It helped that Brenda was an amazing cook too. More than a pound or two had availed itself along his waistline from her pot roast dinner finished off with cherry cobbler. He swore he could smell that cobbler now.

  He walked up the steps toward the house. He remembered young Ramona sitting on the stoop, awaiting her dad as he made it home after work. Cute as a bug and as honest as children are. She’d always ask if he got the bad guy and Dave would always say yes. That they were safe. She’d jump into her dad’s arms and tell him he was the best dad ever.

  Times change.

  He hadn’t seen her in a few years, but the sudden burst of emotion at the stark realization that she was gone ambushed him. He felt the tears he had almost always been able to stop threaten his self-control. He ordered them to go away. A couple escaped anyway.

  Shit. Baby girls aren’t supposed to leave this world until they were great-grandmothers. Particularly under circumstances like the ones that had stolen Ramona from her parents.

  And, for the one-hundredth time, what the hell did Dave mean when he said they got her? He’d not answered Harv, even after he’d used his best grilling techniques.

 

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